


Snapshots

by AvengingAngel



Series: Wave a Magic Wand [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Afterlife, Aftermath, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Death Eaters, F/M, Horcruxes, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possession, Second War with Voldemort, Tags May Change, Talking To Dead People, Temporary Character Death, Unforgivable Curses (Harry Potter), Wizards are Idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:26:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3882268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengingAngel/pseuds/AvengingAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of scenes that don't fit in to the main stories of The Shamrock or Salvation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshots

Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix’s jet of red light: he was laughing at her.

 

“Come on, you can do better than that!” he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

 

The second jet of light hit him squarely in the chest.

 

The laughter had not quite died from his face but his eyes widened in shock.

 

Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore, too, turned towards the dais.

 

Harry didn’t know what would happen if Sirius fell through the archway, but he knew it couldn’t be good. This was the Department of Mysteries, brains floating in a vat had already attacked Ron, for Christ’s sake. The archway could in no possible way be a good thing.

 

But before Harry could reach his godfather, before anyone could really move and take in what was happening, before Sirius could even blink, Remus was there, grabbing the shocked Animagus around the wrist and yanking him away from the arch, pulling him into a crushing hold.

 

“You bloody prat!” Remus breathed, clearly out of breath though no one could be quite sure if it was from fear or exertion. “You idiot, you fucking idiot!”

 

Sirius clung to Remus’ robes, coughing and trying to catch his breath. “I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

 

“I should think so, too. She could have killed you. Don’t you think that was what she was planning, what she was trying to do? You bloody idiot. One of these days, I’m going to chain you to a wall where I can keep an eye on you, where you will be under my constant supervision.”

 

Harry scanned the room as Remus lowered Sirius to the floor, checking him over for serious damage, and noticed the heinous dark witch sneaking out of the room, slinking away like some disgusting worm.

 

It was like hot oil had been poured down his throat, like fire was burning through his veins, making his blood boil. This bitch had tried to kill Sirius. This foul, loathsome creature had tried to take away one of the closest things to a parent Harry had. He had never felt anything like the anger that now filled him. He ran across the room, barely hearing everyone screaming at him to stop, to come back, and a particular gibe from Sirius about him being an idiot. He blocked it all out, ignored it all. All he wanted was to make that bitch pay.

 

He made his way through the rooms, passing Ron and Hermione, who were being seen to by two wizards, through the spinning room, which seemed to know what he wanted and showed him the way through, and into the lift, jabbing the button for the atrium as hard as he could. He forced his way out of the gilded cage as soon as he could, following the cackling bitch.

 

“Crucio!” Harry screamed, sending her careening to the floor.

 

He stood motionless as she got to her feet, giggling maniacally. “Never used an Unforgivable before, have you?” she asked mockingly, and it just made Harry hate her even more. “You have to MEAN it, boy. It doesn’t work if you don’t.”

 

Harry ducked as she aimed a spell at him, the golden head of one of the figures from the statue crashing to the floor mere inches from his toes.

 

“Now…give me the prophecy, Potter, and I might let you live,” she bargained.

 

Harry couldn’t help it, though he tried. He began to laugh and a worried look of confusion crossed her face.

 

“It’s gone,” he laughed. “It’s gone, it smashed and there was so much noise that no one heard it. You stupid bitch. No one heard it and it’s gone, the only record of this precious prophecy you wanted so badly to give Him. It’s gone and you failed. Tell that to your precious Dark Lord.”

 

Her jaw dropped as she shook her head. “No! Master, please, I tried, it was not our fault! Master, please, I did all I could!” she screamed.

 

“Save your breath! He can’t hear you!”

 

“Oh, can’t I?” came a high cold voice as the pain in Harry’s scar flared to unbearable levels, raising bile in his throat and forcing him to his knees. He opened his eyes to find Voldemort standing over him.

 

Suddenly, the statues sprang to life, the witch pinning Bellatrix to the floor, the headless wizard pushing Harry against the wall. He couldn’t see anything around the massive bulk of gold, though he tried. He heard a hiss of “Dumbledore!” and then there were blinding flashes of light in all colours imaginable. It seemed to carry on for eternity, and then there was silence, and Harry could practically feel the anticipation in the air. Something was wrong, something that the sudden explosion of Ministry workers arriving through the Floo would be witness to.

 

“No!” Dumbledore roared. “No one move! He is still here!”

 

The room fell silent and still, the very air holding on to the moment, dozens of witches and wizards collectively holding their breath, all waiting for something, anything.

 

And then, there it was. A burning, something so small, so innocuous, so ordinary for the teen. But it was a thousand times worse than ever before. It felt like someone had pushed Harry’s scar into an open flame and it had taken his lungs with it. It spread through his body, searing every inch of him. He gasped, trying to breathe, but it wasn’t working. He felt his throat close, his heart protesting wildly against whatever it was that was happening to him.

 

“H…help,” he gasped.

 

The statue was gone, but it was no easier to breathe and Dumbledore was in front of him, staring, horrified, at him.

 

“You’ve lost, old man,” Harry heard himself rasp, but it wasn’t him, it was someone else, something else, something inside taking control.

 

Harry began to claw at his chest, tearing at his clothes, trying to rip it out, whatever it was. But it wasn’t going anywhere, and he was just making himself bleed. He could feel it, another mind in his own, causing all this pain, all this suffering. And in that moment, in that one second, Harry wanted to let it take him, wanted to die. It had to be easier than living, surely. He supposed it must be peaceful, to be dead. There would be no more pain, of that he was very sure. But then he thought of all the ones he would be leaving behind, all the ones that would miss him, that he would miss.

 

Sirius, Remus, Ron, Hermione. All his friends, all the Weasleys. So many people he loved, so many people that loved him. And he felt his heart swell with all the love he felt for them, with all the longing he had to be with them, for them to be right there with him at that very moment, wishing so hard that he wasn’t alone.

 

Harry heard the scream in his head and then it was echoing around the room. It doubled and he realised he was screaming with the person, he was screaming with Voldemort. A hand reached into his chest and wrapped around his heart, constricting it as they screamed, jerking his beaten and tired body into the air with every squeeze. And then, the fire faded, the hand left him, and he drifted, so very tired.

 

Sirius watched as Voldemort took control of his godson, clinging to Remus, praying that it would be over soon. They had secured the remaining Death Eaters and then followed Dumbledore to the main atrium, where they were now witnessing this.

 

They all held their breath, waiting. And then the screaming began, and Voldemort appeared opposite Dumbledore, seeing something that wasn’t there, that was somewhere else, that existed, somehow, between both Harry and Voldemort, linking both man and impossibly young boy in this pain.

 

“What’s happening to him?” Ron asked, helping Hermione to stand, his arm a sopping mess of blood.

 

“I don’t know,” Remus said. “Albus looks worried, so it can’t be good.”

 

“He’s dying,” Hermione said, and no one could argue with her. The scream that came from Harry, the convulsions his body went through, the blood draining from his complexion told them all it was the truth.

 

And finally, after what seemed to be forever, all was silent, all was still, and both Harry and Voldemort lay dead on the floor.

 

Dark wisps began to come off of Voldemort’s body, dissipating into the air. Dumbledore erected a barrier between them and the Ministry workers, keeping them away from Harry and all the others.

 

Sirius and Remus rushed over to their godson, sinking to the floor and trying to wake him, shaking him and calling his name over and over, but it was for nothing. Harry did not answer them, he did not move, he did not breathe.

 

Sirius was the first to break, falling into gut wrenching sobs that echoed around the room. Remus was quieter in his grief, pulling Sirius into his arms and staring down at the still body of the boy that had died to save them all.

 

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Hermione couldn’t believe the stupidity of wizards. She threw herself out of Ron’s grasp and half crawled across the floor to her dead friend. He couldn’t have been gone for more than a minute, she was sure of it. There was still time.

 

“Ronald Weasley!” she barked and Ron was beside her in an instant. She felt along the skinny, bloodied chest until she found the right spot, then she grabbed Ron’s hands. “When I tell you, push down as hard as you can five times. Don’t argue, just do it!”

 

She tilted Harry’s head back and opened his mouth, listening for a moment before she sealed her mouth over his. She breathed for him and then watched Ron compress his chest. Over and over they repeated the pattern, Hermione refusing to give up. When had Harry ever given up on any of them? Didn’t he deserve the same?

 

“Hermione, stop,” Ron said, trying to pull her away. “It’s been too long, you can’t save him.”

 

“No! I’m not giving up on him!” she shrieked.

 

“Hermione, stop it!” Ron bellowed. “Hasn’t he been through enough? Hasn’t he done enough for all of us? Leave him alone. He’s g-gone,” he said, his voice breaking on the last.

 

Hermione sat back, staring in horror at the body of her friend. “No,” she whispered. “No, no, no, no, no.”

 

She couldn’t believe it, she wouldn’t. He couldn’t be dead. He was Harry, he survived a killing curse to the head. He couldn’t be dead, he just couldn’t. He was the blooming Boy Who Lived! But he was so still, so pale. And then she was so angry at him, angrier than she had ever been. She was angry at him for leaving, for giving up on them. Before anyone could stop her, she began to hit him, striking the still chest of her dead friend.

 

“I hate you! How could you! How could you leave us! How could you give up! You selfish, stupid bastard! How dare you die!” she screamed.

 

Ron pulled her away, holding her as she howled, crying into his chest.

 

And then they all froze as Harry breathed.

 

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Harry was so peaceful, so calm. There was no more pain. It was like slipping into a warm bath on a cold winter night.

 

There was his mother, and his father, both holding out their hands to him. They pulled him in, holding him tight, telling him how proud they were of him. And then there were other voices, voices from behind, from where Harry had come from. He so wanted to go with them, to stay with his mum and dad, to be warm and peaceful forever. But something was wrong. It was like a rope had looped itself around his heart and was tugging at him to go back, go back to…where was it that the rope wanted him to go? What was it that he needed to return to?

 

“We love you, my darling, but it’s not time for you to be here,” Lily said, stroking her son’s hair away from his eyes. “Others need you more than we do. You’re still needed.”

 

Oh. The others, the war, saving the world. She was right, he was still needed. But he felt so loved.

 

“But I want to stay,” Harry argued. “I want to stay with you and dad. Please let me stay.”

 

“I know you want to stay, my brave son,” James said, putting his arm around Harry’s shoulders, turning him back the way he’d come. “But it’s not time yet. One day, it will be, but you’re far too young to give up on life. There are so many things yet for you to experience. And when you’re ready, when it is your time, we’ll be here. We’ll always be here.”

 

Harry could feel himself slipping from them, and there was a pain in his chest, as if someone was punching him. And there was crying, and screaming. Someone was screaming at him.

 

“We’ll be waiting right here for you,” his mother said, before both of them disappeared altogether and Harry was in more pain than he had ever experienced in his entire life.

 

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“Please…stop hitting me,” Harry croaked.

 

“Oh my God,” Hermione gasped. “Oh my God! You’re alive!”

 

“Yeah, and in serious amounts of pain. What the hell did you do to me?”

 

“It’s called CPR,” she said, launching herself at him, hugging him tightly.

 

“Great. Need to breathe,” he groaned. She sat up and Harry slowly opened his eyes. “Sirius? What the hell are you still doing here? You’ll get caught. Go, now.”

 

“No way,” Sirius argued before Remus could agree with the boy. “I’m not leaving you. You just died, I’m going nowhere.”

 

“Sirius…” Remus began before Albus cut him off.

 

“Go, I will keep you informed. But Harry needs medical attention. I should be getting him and his friends to St. Mungo’s,” the old wizard said and Harry groaned.

 

“No, I want to go home.”

 

“The Dursleys?” Remus questioned.

 

“No, Hogwarts. I want to go back to school. I want Madame Pomfrey, not the hospital.”

 

“Harry, it would be better…” Hermione began.

 

“Screw better. I just died, let me do what I want. I want to go to Hogwarts, to the Infirmary. Please? I’ll be good, I’ll do exactly what she tells me, just…I want to go somewhere I know.”

 

The three adult wizards exchanged a quick look before Remus grabbed Sirius and hauled him to the nearest fireplace, spinning out of sight before anyone could stop them. Dumbledore conjured a stretcher out of a handkerchief and Kingsley helped him to ease Harry onto it, before it was levitated up. Kingsley, Tonks and Dumbledore took a teen each and Apparated away, leaving a stunned Ministry in their wake.

 

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Severus couldn’t stop pacing. Four steps left, turn, four steps right, turn, repeat. He’d been that way ever since Black and Lupin had suddenly appeared in his fireplace.

 

What a cheek. They hadn’t even offered an explanation. Just a nod from Remus, Sirius changing into Snuffles and then the two hurrying from the room. Cheeky bastards, the both of them.

 

Severus knew something was off. It wasn’t simply intuition, that gut feeling he had. It was the fact that his Mark wasn’t burning. It was as if the blasted thing wasn’t there anymore. It had blazed earlier in the evening, and then practically beat him around the head with a flaming hot poker a half hour ago. And then it went cold and still.

 

“Where the fuck is he?” he muttered to himself, looking down at his arm once more.

 

The Mark had faded, almost completely. It was as if the last year had been a fluke, some fanciful imagining. He knew Albus could answer his questions, but the barmy old bat wasn’t around and he had no one to yell at instead so Severus kept pacing until a tap at his window caught his attention.

 

He yanked it open, which wasn’t that easy as the window was right up by the ceiling and barely big enough for Longbottom’s toad to get through, and stared at Kitty, Solarin’s owl. Right, now he knew something wasn’t right. For her to have felt something from Muggle London, something big had happened. He took the note from the owl and tore it open.

 

_Sev,_

_What the fuck is happening? I just felt the earth tremor. If you know, tell me. I’m worried._

 

She was lying, he knew that. She wasn’t worried, she was petrified. But he didn’t know, so he pulled out a piece of scrap parchment.

 

_Sol,_

_No idea what’s happening. Will let you know when I know. Love you. Don’t panic._

 

He tied it to Kitty’s leg and carried her to the window. “Take that to Sol, don’t stop for anything,” he said. She chirped at him once, tugged at a lock of his hair and then took off. Severus watched her go and then realised something was happening down at the front gates.

 

He grabbed his wand and took off as fast as his legs would carry him.

 

“I knew there was a reason I loved the window.”

 

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Albus saw Severus running towards them, reaching the gate before it was even fully open. Ron took Hermione from him and followed the stretcher Kingsley was levitating, Tonks bringing up the rear.

 

“Albus? What’s happened?” Severus gasped, his eyes fixed on the battered forms of his students. “Are they all right?”

 

“They will be. Come, Severus. Come to my office and we will have a little chat.”

 

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Sirius was tired but he refused to sleep. It had been a stressful night and he refused to take his eyes off his sleeping godson. He was behaving impeccably though, thanks in no small part to Madame Pomfrey’s very real promise of kicking him out if he was anything other than a perfect angel.

 

He was in his dog form, lying across Harry’s feet. It seemed to help the sprite, the warmth of him. Remus was sat by Harry’s head, stroking his hair and holding his hand.

 

Hermione and Ron had been patched up by Madame Pomfrey and then disappeared to get some much needed rest. Albus had come by to say that he had spoken with the Minister and that the rest of Harry’s friends had escaped their little adventure with no lasting damage.

 

Harry had ended up with seven broken ribs, a cracked breastbone and severe magical drain, which meant he would be unable to do any magic until his reserves restored themselves. It was nice to know Harry was suffering from exhaustion too, which Sirius translated to mean the teen would be going nowhere fast.

 

“We lost him,” Remus whispered as the early morning sunlight filtered in through the wide windows. “Oh, God, Siri. We lost him.”

 

Sirius changed back into his human form but he daren’t move from across Harry’s feet for fear of waking him. The boy needed his rest and Pomfrey had been reluctant to drug him with Dreamless Sleep after Harry needing CPR earlier in the evening.

 

“Yes, we did. But we got him back,” Sirius said. He had soon realised that Remus needed him to be the reassuring one this time, that he needed to be the logical one for both of them, and he knew it was more than slightly his fault. If he hadn’t let Bellatrix goad him so much, it wouldn’t have been him that needed saving from death. The only problem was, Sirius didn’t know how to be the reassuring one. It was always Remus that did it, it was always Sirius that needed the comfort.

 

“But what if Hermione hadn’t been there? What if we really did lose him?” Remus questioned. “What then?”

 

“I don’t know,” Sirius replied honestly. “You know, I’m not as good at the whole logical adult thing as you are. I don’t know what to say to help.”

 

Remus tore his eyes from the sleeping Gryffindor to gaze down at his husband. “You’re here,” he said. “That’s enough for me right now.”

 

“Good, because he’s bloody useless,” Harry croaked. “How long have I been out?”

 

“Seven, maybe eight hours, I lost track,” Remus said, and then startled in alarm as Harry hissed in pain.

 

“The light, please, it’s too much. Too bright, make it stop,” Harry begged, shielding his tightly closed eyes with a hand.

 

Remus grabbed his wand and sent blinds to the windows, blocking out the majority of the light but leaving enough so they could still tell it was daylight outside. Harry slowly lowered his hand and blinked, gradually opening his eyes. Remus saw that they were bloodshot, the entire whites turned red. Harry motioned to him and Remus slid onto the bed, Harry snuggling against him.

 

“I saw mum and dad,” Harry whispered. “When I…when I was gone. I saw them. They said I couldn’t go with them yet, that it wasn’t my time, that I was still needed.”

 

“They were right,” Sirius said, sitting up slowly. “We still need you, pup.”

 

“But they’ll be waiting for me. Mum said so. They will…won’t they?”

 

“Oh, my cub. Of course they will,” Remus said, pressing a kiss to the messy dark head resting against his chest. “If Lily said they’d wait, I’d believe her.”

 

Harry nodded and watched as Sirius stretched, catching sight of the stern matron entering the room from her office.

 

“Good to know you can behave yourself, Sirius,” she said. “Now, Mr Potter, how are you feeling?”

 

“Like I took a whole bunch of drugs and then got eaten by a bear…and then trampled by a herd of elephants,” he said, making them smile.

 

“Sounds about right. Put this under your tongue for me while I check you over,” she said, shoving a thermometer into his mouth. She pulled out her wand and made the tip glow, and tried to look into Harry’s eyes, which earned her a scream and an instinctive shove from the sore saviour.

 

“Harry is having a little trouble with light this morning,” Sirius said, Poppy nodding in understanding.

 

“Alright, Potter, no more light, but I need to have a look at your eyes.”

 

Harry stared at her warily for a few moments before nodding and cuddling into Remus as the nurse looked into his eyes, clucking at the severe redness.

 

“You burst the blood vessels,” she proclaimed as she checked the thermometer. “No fever.” She felt his pulse and then listened to his chest. “Good pulse and lung sounds, and a nice strong heartbeat. Very good.”

 

“Why does my chest hurt?”

 

“Miss Granger and Mr Weasley cracked your breastbone and seven of your ribs in the process of saving your life. Perfectly normal, nothing to worry about. You’ll be sore for a week or two.”

 

“Oh. Remind me to thank them. And the burst blood vessels? Is that bad?”

 

“No, not at all. Give it a few days. It’s simply from the enormous pressure you put yourself under last night. You might suffer some small nosebleeds also, and you may vomit up some blood. Nothing to worry about, simply burst blood vessels which will heal themselves. All will be back to normal soon. And you can have your wand back when I’m happy you’ve healed. No magic from you until I’m satisfied.”

 

“What about the exhaustion?” Sirius questioned.

 

“Give it a few days, no less than a week I’d say. Let him rest. I’m keeping him for at least a week, and no arguing!” she said, turning a stern gaze on Harry. “You told Professor Dumbledore you would do exactly what I told you, so you will stay put!”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry replied meekly.

 

In all honesty, he felt extremely reluctant to move for the next week, let alone do anything as strenuous as dealing with anyone in the outside world. If anyone really wanted to see him, they’d have to get past the scary nurse first, and Harry didn’t reckon many chances of that.

 

As the thought entered his head, Ron and Hermione slipped into the long room with Dumbledore and Snape, relieved smiles crossing their faces when they saw he was awake and seemingly all right. They made their way over and took seats as Remus and Sirius made their way over to the Headmaster and Potions Master. Madame Pomfrey took to her chart and summoned a house elf to fetch some breakfast for Harry and his guests.

 

“So…how are you?” Hermione asked.

 

“Not bad. Groggy, and sore, but I’m still here, so I can’t complain. Thank you both, by the way. For…you know…bringing me back and all that,” Harry said with a smile.

 

“Hey, we couldn’t let you skip out on us that easily,” Ron joked. “I know you’re tired but dying is not the way to get some sleep, mate.”

 

Harry laughed and then clutched his chest as his ribs flared to life.

 

“Are you all right?” Ron asked.

 

“Fine. It’s nothing.” The looks they were giving him showed that they clearly didn’t believe him. “Okay, it’s not nothing. Seven broken ribs and a cracked breastbone, magical drain, exhaustion, burst blood vessels in my eyes and an extreme sensitivity to light. I think that’s it. Either way, I’m in here for at least the next week, or until Pomfrey sees fit to release me.”

 

“Oh, God,” Hermione gasped. “I’m so sorry, Harry. We never meant to break bones.”

 

“Relax. Pomfrey says it’s normal, I’ll just be a little sore for a few days. It’s fine, really. I’ve had worse.” Harry could see Ron was relaxing, but Hermione still looked stricken. “Hermione, I’m fine. Really. I’m just going to need a few days to get back to my old self.”

 

She seemed to deflate and Harry opened his mouth to ask what had appeared in the Prophet that morning and what the rest of the school was up to when Snape slowly made his way over.

 

“Mr Potter,” the tall professor said, nodding slightly at the tired saviour. Sirius and Remus were hovering a few feet behind, watching the scene warily. Snape coughed a few times, looking uncomfortable. “I need to thank you.”

 

“No, Professor, you don’t. It’s not needed, I didn’t do anything,” Harry argued, feeling blood rush to his face. The last thing he wanted was anyone’s thanks, especially Snape.

 

“No, you misunderstand. Had you not defeated the Dark Lord, I would still be in his service. You have freed me. Thank you.”

 

Harry couldn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. What did you say to a statement like that? So Harry simply nodded and watched the tall man sweep from the room.

 

“That was different,” Sirius said. “Never thought I’d live to see the day that greasy git thanked anyone for anything, let alone James’ son.”

 

“Lay off, Sirius,” Remus said, sitting down on the bed and letting Harry snuggle against him once more. “Give the man points, he thanked Harry where Harry was due his thanks. And he did it to Harry’s face. That counts for something.”

 

“Not to me,” the Animagus said sulkily, leaning against the wall by the window, crossing his arms.

 

“Well, it does to me,” Remus argued.

 

“Can we just change the subject?” Harry requested, feeling uncomfortable. “So Snape said thanks, big deal. I want to know what the Prophet printed this morning.”

 

“Nothing much,” Ron said as breakfast appeared, big steaming bowls of hot porridge. They left it to cool a little while they talked. “Big battle, big win for the Light side, all thanks and flowers to be sent here, care of the Headmaster, blah blah blah. Same old, same old. Oh! It’s a national holiday, which means no classes. Thanks, mate.”

 

Harry grinned. “No problem. What about the rest of the school, what are they saying?”

 

“Not a lot,” Hermione said. “Most of them are just asking how you are and where the rest of the booze is.”

 

“Typical,” Sirius chuckled. “Did anyone actually sleep last night, apart from our little hero?”

 

“Please don’t call me that,” Harry complained. “I’m not a hero.”

 

Sirius opened his mouth to argue.

 

“Shut up, Sirius,” Remus interrupted. “He doesn’t like it, so shut it.”

 

Sirius huffed and nodded, looking to Hermione for an answer to his earlier question.

 

“I think only me and Ron slept out of the whole of Gryffindor. Ummm…Harry, I sort of…slept in your bed last night. I hope you don’t mind, it’s just that I really didn’t want to sleep alone and all the girls in my dormitory were partying…”

 

“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” Harry said. “Comfy?”

 

She grinned sheepishly. “Very. And then I got a very nice surprise when I woke up.”

 

“A surprise?” Remus questioned. “Didn’t you think last night was enough excitement for any lifetime?”

 

“Apparently, you need a word with Ron about that, because he proposed.”

 

The room fell so silent that a pin drop would have sounded like a bomb going off. No one could quite get their heads around what she had just said. Ron did what? Ron proposed? Proposed what?

 

“I said yes, by the way,” she added.

 

“Hold on just a minute,” Harry said. “Ron proposed what?”

 

Ron gave him a sheepish grin. “Marriage. We didn’t want anyone to know we were together, what with You-Know-Who and the war and all that, not to mention Umbridge. But I love her and I want to be with her. And I was hoping you’d be my best man?”

 

Harry burst out laughing, holding his ribs as they screamed at him. “I’m sorry…I don’t mean to laugh…” he gasped, “it’s just…well…marriage…you two…I can’t quite get my head around it.”

 

“I don’t think any of us can,” Sirius said with a dazed smile.

 

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**Author's Note:**

> Please, comment and let me know what you thought. If there is something you want to see, please let me know.


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